Magic in the Mud
by Veilwuarrah
Summary: Arthur and the knights run for their lives when the underground tunnels of the caverns start to cave in. But someone gets left behind... S.4
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, and yes, I'm still alive and still around! And lookit! A little fic to prove it. Originally a oneshot; it overgrew so ... more chapters.. Complaints? I hope not :s _*wiggles fingers*_**

******Before you all give me the 'Gaius-eyebrow', let me say.. _Yes_, ALL my ongoing fics are being worked on in turns, bit by bit, nothing is abandoned; I've just been busy with trips and a wedding **_(not mine!)_** and guests and workplace taking time from writing.. but it's coming;_'Dreams of Pale White Flames', 'Growing Secrets', 'The Blood Potion','The Queen's Fool', 'The Request Game', 'The stray Dragonlord' _and of course_ 'The Resemblance'_, with some oneshots in between the updates to keep it all interesting ;)**

**It's been quiet on the board.. and I won't deny, it worries me a little. May it be exams or vacations.. I also understand people might be moving on to other fandoms as the series is finished.. I still got lots of ideas though and am writing whenever I can. I just hope there are still people out there that get as excited about this wonderful realm as much as I do.**

**So. Without further ado, here you got another little story, that I had playing around with for a while now, and it's dedicated to... You. Yes. YOU. ALL OF YOU, who are reading and enjoying this fandom! ;) Thank you~ ****Hope you like it and feedback appreciated as always~!**

**Enjoy~**

**.*.**

Thinking back, Sir Percival tried to blame it on the dust; on the light, - or _rather lack of it;_ the dimness of the tunnel; the rumbling noises; the rush; the panic; the danger;.. and just about anything he could think of instead of thinking what he actually saw playing out in front of him. - _Because that was just too unbelievable to comprehend and accept._

His thoughts came to a blank halt once again; as he mindlessly fidgeted with the hilt of the small dagger he pulled from his boots some time ago, but was uncertain what to do with it just yet.

He stared at the king's manservant.

The always smiling, always helpful, up-for-a-jest, incredibly loyal servant, who was by the royal's side ever since Percival had met him; the lad, Lancelot thought the world of, and every time he had talked about him it was with a knowing smile and pride. There was no hunt or patrol or quest, the dark haired didn't follow their sovereign to, no matter the danger. He was probably the only one that back-talked to the monarch and dared to question him and call him names, and the king tolerated it; _well most of the time anyway._ The banter between them was enjoyable to listen to, and despite his brash behavior, the servant was dear to the king, even a blind man could see that. And now.. _now what?_

The manservant was unconscious, - more so, the manservant was unconscious _and_ bleeding.

Instinct told the knight to immediately see to the wounds that were oozing away the precious life-liquid out of the body of the scrawny young man, but some other instinct told him to plunge the dagger in his heart and be done with it.

Obviously, the contradiction between the two urges so very opposite, the muscular knight couldn't make up his mind what to do and which instinct to follow. So Percival sat with a dagger in hand, staring at Merlin in the depths of a half-caved-in God-forsaken cave, well aware how time was running out for a decision; and he will have to make the right one.

.*.

_Earlier.._

The knight couldn't tell the time, but there had to be some length between the last time he saw torchlight and the moment he came to; to that attested the darkness and silence descended on him and the small sticky puddle of lukewarm liquid his palm landed in soon after waking and trying to pad his way around the blackness that surrounded him. It had a metallic smell to it, and felt eerily familiar, but not recognizing it immediately, the tall man quickly discarded his focus on it and instead tried to feel around the place he found himself in; a place he couldn't see anything in the pitch dark that stared back at him.

_The walls had caved in_, Percival recalled. They were running towards the entrance to the cave while the ground shook and the caverns grumbled and stones, large and small, were dropping in their paths and on their heads.

_He was lucky to be alive_, he realized, thinking back to how grim it all looked, and pushed the debris off of himself; a task seemingly easy, but it still took some time for the disoriented knight to complete.

Once not feeling any other weights on him, and catching his breath from the latest of coughing fits – the air, even if dark in front of him, no doubt still being full of dust – he stood, trying to asses the situation. For one, he quickly learnt that standing up straight isn't all that good of an idea for a man of his height, as at the first attempt to do so, he bumped his head into the cavern ceiling and spent the next couple of minutes caressing his injury and cursing silently. – That too, between coughs.

Percival guessed that the bigger boulders avoided him, still feeling sore here and there, he was certain there was a cut on his thigh and shoulder, and the back of his head felt especially sensitive, (now the bump added to it) but he was standing and in one piece with no major injuries and miraculously nothing broken._Such luck._ He scoffed to himself feeling around his torso for any injuries and finding mere scratches and bruises.

He stood still listening for any sounds or signs, but besides the faint echoes of small rocks tipping over and rolling down, and his own breathing, the cave was silent. _Dead silent._

It suddenly dawned upon him that he was _trapped._

A small flicker of panic started to reach him and he desperately held his hands out and upon finding the wall he started patting and grabbing and pulling at the stones he reached and finding every inch movable and shiftable he frantically started scratching and clawing and digging for his freedom; all until the earthen wall gave way and rocks and soil started falling on him once again, swiping his feet from underneath him, forcing the tall man to fall against the debris and slouch down on it; and as dust rose with new waves, Percival could do nothing but kneel and cough.

_This.. this cant be happening.._He thought, but then decided to counter the panic before it gets too big to manage. _'No, they will find me and dig me out..'_

He sat down with his back against the rocks trying to gather his thoughts and catch his breath.

The others got out. They did. He saw it. He was certain they got out. Hell, they were downright _thrown out._ And Merlin.. Percival shivered and decided to deal with _that_ later, desperately wanting to cling onto something hopeful instead.

_Arthur and the others were alive and will look for him and find him and get him out._ He felt confident about that. No use wasting his strength on digging, when Gods know, he could even be digging in the wrong direction.

Suddenly he thought he heard something so he held his breath and listened as best as he could, as no matter how wide his eyes got and no matter how hard he tried to see anything, the darkness around him was thick and shapeless. He had to rely on his hearing.

For a moment he could have sworn he heard something stir, but now he could only hear his heart's frantic beating pounding in his ears and some pebbles still rolling about the slide he just created.

_Gods, who knows how long will the air last in here.__ - _But just to put his worries to rest, he felt the air move and Percival took it as good as a news as if he would've walked out of his imprisonment in that very moment, for it meant there was another opening somewhere.

_Of course._ There had to be. That witch Morgana had also been in there.

_Oh.. she was.._

_No..!_ he hurriedly tried to reassure himself. Being trapped underground was bad enough, but being trapped with a powerful and crazed witch was the last thing he needed. Suddenly he wondered if she was around in the dark, or could she see in the dark? Surely she could use her evil magic to do such things.._no_.. it's more certain she escaped the cave the moment things went to hell and the walls started coming down on them. She _always_ does that. _Escape._

He swallowed hard and tried not to think of the possibility of the witch still being down there. It felt like walking around barefoot when there's a snake lurking around.

His heart slowly calmed and as no other sound invaded the darkness, he decided to try and find the other opening. _Better then sitting still and waiting._He just wasn't the kind to sit around in wait. – so the knight pushed himself off the ground, keeping his head down and feeling around the wall, he started following his hand.

It worked; that is, until his foot caught in something and he nearly fell over it.

Realizing it didn't quite feel like a piece of wood or stone he bent down to check what it is, and once he touched it he felt a shiver run thought him. It was a leg.

Someone was down here with him, and in that moment he didn't realize who it could be.

Percival's hand quickly roamed around the body, feeling it still had warmth in it – still had _life_ in it. He flinched whenever his fingers felt warm liquid and it suddenly dawned upon him just what that lukewarm puddle on the stone was and it made him shudder. _Surely, it wasn't his. Was it from the figure he just stumbled on?_ He dreaded the answer, but his hands kept moving upward on the unmoving form, as he crawled closer, aiming to look for a pulse on the person's neck; but then his thoughts got interrupted as he felt a familiar fabric of a neckerchief under his palm and the next minute he jerked back as if he would've put his hand upon flames.

_To hell with this..._He growled to himself and hastily got up on his feet, backing away and reaching out to the wall to use as guide to get to the other entrance, to get away as far and as fast as he could; _leaving Merlin behind.._

.*.

The knight lost track of time, no doubt feeling about the walls instead of going in a straight line and not knowing where he is putting his foot, slowed him down. His mind however, was racing with the images he saw before the cave collapsed on them. He tried to give sense to it all, but no matter what explanation he came up with, it just didn't add up. Each theory he invented was limping; each interpretation had a gaping hole in it he couldn't ignore.

The cave was a labyrinth; and his hand met carvings and spider-webs; empty torch holders and tree-roots; water-leaks in the cracks and just about anything one can imagine in a cave - Percival met it all and more; and he wondered if he was going around in circles, also thinking he probably had double amount of injuries by now, simply from bumping into things in the dark; partly he had himself to thank for that and of how distracted he's been the whole while.

So focused was he on what he witnessed before the rocks fell, that he nearly missed the small opening on the wall. Lucky, there was a gush of wind coming towards him and once it grabbed his attention the knight started feeling about in it's direction and taking a sharp turn in the tunnel, and soon Percival even spotted a faint light seeping in. He felt more relieved with each step, but just before reaching the end of the cave he nearly fell when his foot got caught in something again, this time he found it to be just a piece of wood, instead of someone's limb; - it was an unlit torch to be precise, and the tall man mumbled to himself, how the thing could have been more useful when he was actually inside the caverns.

The forest crown and the gathered clouds made the early evening look even more gloomy and dark, yet Sir Percival was still rubbing his eyes and shielding them with his hand as he squeezed through the opening amongst the tree-roots. It took him a little time to recognize that he arrived to a clearing of some sort. He contemplated staying hidden, until his eyes become once again comfortable with light and for him to asses his injuries, before running out to find his comrades, but then he noticed a familiar figure walking passing his hiding place, just on the edge of the cleft he was facing.

He gave out a whistle, not to draw too much attention, but recognizing the signal, the figure immediately stopped and turned, sword drawn, and cautiously looked around until he spotted the giant knight.

"Percival!" the other man cried out in a hushed tone with relief and took a few steps towards his mate, looking at his footing, then let out a whistle of his own to signal the others, before turning back again to the other knight.

"Are you alright?"

"I think so." Percival nodded. "The others?" But before Gwaine could answer Elyan appeared on his right and soon Sir Leon and Arthur himself joined them. "We're fine." They all had their swords still drawn and looked pretty ruffled and muddy. The muscular knight figured he probably doesn't look any better.

"Percival! Are you alright?" Arthur asked hastily, observing the bloody cuts on the man's thigh and shoulder.

"Yes, Milord." The tall man said assuring, glancing at his right shoulder and upper arm, then to his thigh; they weren't serious injuries, nothing he couldn't handle, however his gaze paused a little as he saw the blood on his palm and it gave him a shiver. He looked up at his comrades instead and notices the king observing left and right the ditch he was in, then upon looking at Percival again, asked what the muscular man probably feared the most of hearing.

"Where's Merlin?"

There was silence as they all waited for the answer. Percival just stared at them wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden.

"He didn't come out with us." Leon supplied the information.

_Not, that he didn't know that; _but Percival still couldn't get his mouth to say anything, so instead he turned back towards the roots, looking at the entrance of the cave. - _Yes, Merlin was still in there, but they didn't know. Merlin was still in there, because he, Percival had left him there.._

"Oh no.." Gwaine mumbled under his breath and Elyan too let out an uncomfortable sigh.

"He still must be in the caves.." Leon said somewhat shocked, though it was obvious.

The tall knight looked back up on his king and his fellow knights, taking in wordlessly their expressions of concern; they no doubt mistaking his own to be the same, but still, even then all he felt was confusion, denial and _guilt._

Arthur was the hardest to look at. The king stood firmly with a clenched jaw not saying a word and Percival with all his strength and height felt small in the face of the man that was worried over his friend; even if said friend was a servant.._ and a traitor. _And for a moment the knight wondered if the king really knew just _who_ was polishing his armor.

"We can't pull you out." Arthur then stated, motioning to the sides of the ditch, and Percival glanced around just now to realize he was in fact in a deep hole with steep earthen walls and no easy edges. "The horses got taken. We got no rope." The king said, forcing on a calm voice and he fiddled on his side, and then tossed his waterskin for the tall man to catch. "But we will come back for you.." He added biting off the end of the sentence and for a moment had a pleading look upon him and an unspoken _'and for Merlin'_ lingered in the pause before he continued. "We should be back by sunrise.."

Percival merely nodded.

"Here." Elyan spoke and tossed his own weapon in. "Morgana's men might still be around."

"You also might need this." Gwaine unbuckled his cape and bundled it up for the knight to catch.

"Stay safe." The king said. "We'll come back as soon as we can."

"I'll go look for Merlin." Percival found his voice at last, even if it was a little more hoarse then he liked. He turned to pick up the torch he saw not long ago, noting how it will have it's use after all, and willing unwilling he descended back into the dark labyrinth. - He also had a dagger in his boots and wondered if he will be using that as well..

.*.


	2. Chapter 2

**Evening folks! Thank you all for the lovely reviews and wonderful response to this fic.. Second part! Ready for the read! I hope you like it~ Feedback appreciated~**

**Enjoy!**

**.*.**

It was different now. Actually seeing where he was putting his feet made it a lot easier to get around and climb over the debris made of fallen rocks and broken wooden pillars; and he remembered the carvings and the cracks, the roots he felt, so Percival found his way around in the tunnel rather well; and a little too well, as he reached the cave-in a little sooner then he'd wanted; and he still hasn't made his mind up about what to do about the knowledge he now had.

He could go back and tell the king he didn't find Merlin. He could tell him, he was already dead. He could take it into his hands and kill the servant himself.. but could he _really_ do that? Could he kill a wounded man? Could he really look into Arthur's eyes and give him the news of his friends' death? All the while having blood on his hands behind his back? He could never wash that off; he would never live that down.. Could he take the life of said friend..? And Merlin was _his_ friend as well.. _Even if.. even if.. _

The knight's thoughts got disrupted when the first light of his torch-flames fell on a pair of dirty, unmoving brown boots. He stopped and raised the torch a bit higher to see better, and then he felt incredibly guilty and scared. There was so much blood. _Just.. too much of it._

_Perhaps he is already dead, sparing himself the deed.. _he thought, but immediately felt bad for even considering that.

Coming out of his horrified daze, he quickly placed the torch in a crack to light the area for him and got to hastily tossing rocks and debris off the unmoving form of the manservant, but too scared to call out for him.

It was Merlin. There was no mistaking it. He lay on his side on the uneven ground, facing away from the light of the torch. Patches of dark red dirtying his clothes here and there, dust and debris were covering him; his mop of black hair looking almost gray from the dirt; and his form was uncharacteristically still.

Percival recognized the place he came to; he also recognized the rock and the blood on it, and wondered how he didn't step on the man in his frantic digging, as he was mere feet away from him at that time; just laying on a slope, unmoving. _Gods, he might have even hit him with the stones as he tossed them aside.. – _the tall man shivered at the thought.

_Why worry? –_ a voice suddenly said in his mind and the knight stopped, looking at the dark haired in disbelief. It's pointless to dig the servant out if he's going to kill the _traitor_ anyway. - _No.._ no this was wrong, he can't do that! This is _Merlin._ – Percival shook his head and crouched closer to the young man and looked for a pulse on his neck.

It was weak, but fast; and his skin felt clammy and cool to the touch, and the knight knew as much straight away that those were the signs of a significant blood loss. _And who knows what else there was.. _he thought warily and glanced over him, noting, his feet were at least higher up on the slope as he was laying on the ground.

Percival carefully grabbed the man's shoulder and gently rolled him onto his back, revealing his blood and dirt covered face, now lit by the torchlight and even more horrific of a sight as the blood glistered off his forehead and side of his face and stuck to his hair. Some patches dried on him, others muddied from the dirt on the cavern floor.

He certainly _looked_ dead. – but Percival knew he _wasn't. _And it was something he didn't know how to deal with.

"Merlin.." he called out for the first time, even surprising himself, how his own voice seemed foreign and intrusive in the silent cave; too low yet too loud. – But the manservant didn't even flinch.

Percival huffed and rubbed his own face, thinking hard on what to do.

_If only he wouldn't have stopped. If only he would have kept running!_ – Percival recalled the events that led to this unfortunate situation..

Morgana, with some false news, had lured Arthur to the cave for what other reason then to kill him; but when things got into the thick of it, her men decided the fight just isn't worth the reward, so they started to bail and the witch realizing she doesn't stand much of a chance, she opted for bringing the whole cave down on them. – With her being the only one to escape of course. Thus, Arthur made a run for it with his knights right behind him, but the tunnels were caving in too fast, and Percival feared they will not make it out of this one.

The king was way ahead with the others, followed by Merlin a little further back and Percival, who had a persistent bandit to deal with prior to the decision to retreat, was made.

It really seemed like they won't get out in time, however Percival saw Merlin stop in his tracks and he was just about to shout at him to keep moving, but then the servant did the most unusual thing: he raised his hand and shouted something the tall knight couldn't understand, nor hear very well in the rumbling, but he saw the effects as his comrades and the king seemed to be shoved with and great invisible force; they got picked right off the ground and flew out of the cave, vanishing in the light at the opening. The knight remembered seeing the manservant trying to shield himself of the falling rocks, turning sideways he could have sworn he saw a gold glow fade in his eyes, but nothing after that. He presumed he got knocked out around that time. And once again marveled how the stones didn't crush him, a faint voice hinting to him from the back of his mind that perhaps perhaps Merlin had something to do with that as well.

It also came to him, how the servant was several feet ahead at the time the knight last saw him, yet they were obviously side by side when he came to, even if he couldn't see the servant at the time.

But the truth remained: Merlin used magic. He was certain of it. And before he knew it he was holding a dagger he produced out of his boot and was nervously eyeing the unconscious man.

_Magic._

He had lost a lot in his life and all because of _magic_. He hated anything that had to do with magic. He's been tossed about by Morgana, enchanted by a Lamia and even that crazy old sorcerer got the upper hand over him and used him as stool to get on his horse. So even if Arthur had pardoned the druids, the knight was wary whenever they met anyone that had anything to do with magic. King's orders or not, he still had his own views and feelings about it all.

He was a peaceful giant by nature, but woe for those with magic. Magic was _evil._ Magic was _death_. And if there was one thing on the land that the muscular man may have admitted of being afraid of, it had to be magic.

And now he found out Merlin had magic. - He tightened his grip on the hilt as if trying to gather enough determination to do what he felt he had to do: _kill a traitor_.

However that was the problem. _The very contradiction in everything; _and as much as he fiddled with the knife in his hand until his palms started getting sweaty around the handle of it and glared at the unconscious servant, this still was Merlin, and Sir Percival felt he will slam his head against the wall in a minute if logic doesn't come to him about this situation.

Magic was evil. Merlin had magic, but _Merlin_ of all people couldn't be evil. He just couldn't.

If he would've been evil he wouldn't have fought against Morgana and all manners of magical attacks against the kingdom. But he did.

If Merlin would've wanted to use magic to harm them, he could have done so countless times before. - While they spent nights out in the forest; while he made their food; while they were asleep in their beds; he had so many opportunities, yet didn't live with any of them. – it was right the opposite: he made cooked for them, built fire, fulfilled the role of the physician in the party, if any of them got injured. And he was Arthur's servant; manservant to the king of Camelot _himself._ - Percival wondered if Arthur knew he was being so worried over a sorcerer, or would he come to kill the man himself if he found out. Did he know when he got so vehemently protective over the servant at the time Merlin went missing? Even going against his uncle for him and sending patrol after patrol out to find him.. Or the times he took Merlin along on quests and hunts, the times he made fun of him, and the servant just endured it.. it didn't make sense. Why didn't he fight back for those? Some were of jest, but others even Percival considered to be a tad harsh against a man of his status and strength.. _oh, what strength.. _Magic could be strength.

He wondered if Arthur knew the deadly secret when he sent Lancelot back to Camelot with him after the Dorocha attack.. - _The dorocha.._ Percival scratched his head. - Merlin jumped in front of Arthur then, and he was the only man ever known to survive a Dorocha's touch. Surely that was unusual enough. Why didn't anyone notice it..? They were preoccupied with the veil being torn, but still.. He wondered what had happened in the time those two were away from them. And Lancelot seemed calm enough about it as well.

_Of course!_ Lancelot knew. He surely had to! And he kept the secret as well, while Merlin's been hiding in plain sight all along, with planning who knows what.. maybe he enchanted Lancelot? Maybe he even killed the noble knight?

Percival was now getting a headache.

_Now's the time. _- He thought with determination and gripped the small dagger tight again; but then just sat again staring and huffing.

He can't do this. He must. But he cant. Can't he? No. This was Merlin. It's always been Merlin. And Percival thought very hard to try and figure this out. Tried to get a grip on the notion and give meaning to it all. Arthur couldn't know.. he somehow was certain of that. The king wouldn't hide a sorcerer. Then he remembered his late friend; and suddenly he understood Lancelot's remarks and knowing hints. How he called Merlin "gifted" and "special"; how the first time they sat at the Round Table before retaking Camelot, before even becoming a knight, Lancelot said he will fight for "freedom", and as he spoke that word he looked at the young man. Percival noticed, but didn't know what to make of it. He knew _now_.. He sighed._ He wished he didn't. _

But.. Is that all he wanted? Freedom? Why come to Camelot of all places where magic was banned on the pain of death if he wanted freedom..?

A little more thinking revealed other notions to Percival. Merlin had magic, but instead of taking over and killing the king like Morgana had attempted so many times, Merlin obviously wanted something else; he wanted to get his freedom some other way. Percival had heard from Leon once, about how arrogant Arthur was when he still was a young prince, and how he's changed over the years. Even Gwaine said something between two drinks of how the "princess" probably was the first highborn he decided to reconsider his views on nobles for, all because Merlin defended him; all because Arthur changed.. Was that it? Was Merlin trying to change Arthur to get him to free magic? But Arthur was becoming a better man, for his people, for his kingdom.. It seemed all very puzzling. If Merlin wanted magic to be free in the kingdom, why was everyone and everything becoming better around him? How could that be if magic was evil..?

_And Arthur.._

Of course.. For magic to be granted freedom in Camelot, he needed the king to _denounce_ the law forbidding it; he wanted to change the kings view on magic.. But, why didn't he just kill Arthur then to change it all? Why were they friends.. did Arthur really not know this? Did he really not notice anything about his servant? He was becoming a better man, a worthy king.. but.. magic was evil, right?

The myriad of questions kept growing the more he thought about it. There were just too many of them and he kept having a feeling he stumbled on something major and too big for him to tackle. He was a peasant, and became a knight; so maybe there are exceptions in everything in life. Maybe magic can't be all that bad and depends on who is wielding it, instead of what the gift is. After all, the druids use magic and they are peaceful people..

And from what he saw, it was Merlin stopping in his tracks despite the danger, raising his hands while shouting something foreign and the next minute Arthur and the others flew out the tunnel into safety, just before the rocks came crashing down.

Yes. Merlin did save the king's life. The knight wondered if this was the only time, and had a lingering feeling the answer to that was _no_.

He glanced on his dagger again. The man did save his life as well. There is just no such luck on getting out almost unscratched from such a cave-in.

Percival was still battling between views and notions, desperately trying to come up with a way out of this situation, feeling his thoughts were nothing more at that time but a big jumbled up mess.

Lancelot knew of Merlin's magic and he trusted him; he trusted the _sorcerer_. So if going by only that, Percival felt he could trust the man as well. After all, knowing how he was, having Lancelot's trust in him, only one word stood against him, and that was "magic". And in the end it was just a word. And what was a word against deeds of courage and loyalty, the servant had given proof of countless times already?

Or could all this be a charade? Something to prepare for something much bigger to lead the kingdom to its demise..

The tall knight figured the answers to his questions can only be given by the man himself that was still oblivious to the world around him. He pondered if he should hear Merlin out, listen to his version of the story; call it a _'fair trial'_, to let him speak at least and answer for his crimes on magic, before casting judgment, or handing him over to the king to do so; or would it be better to stay safe and not give a chance for the sorcerer to cast a spell and enchant him? Should he just cut his throat there and then for using magic; even if he had saved the king's life?

And so Sir Percival sat and stared at the king's manservant, and behind his silent expression battles roared between thoughts in his mind. Eventually he weighed all his options and all he knew; and coming to a decision, he swallowed hard and gripped the dagger, uneasily moving towards the manservant.

Merlin chose that moment to wake up.

* * *

**Yes..yes.. not a oneshot. There will more chapters for this. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Behold! Another one!.. Product of this weeks mad typing and OCED.. I do hope you will enjoy this read~**

**Many thanks for all the lovely feedback you give me, I really appreciate it, and it makes me very happy and motivated to write more.. :) Have a lovely weekend folks~! **

**Keeping A/N short.. on with the fic!**

**.*.**

It hurt.

Everything just hurt.

His senses flowed around his surroundings sluggishly, vaguely registering the cold residing in his limbs and the hard ground underneath him as well as a faint light trying to invade through his closed eyelids. It took him a while to open his eyes, and woe the light felt like daggers for his headache; he moaned squeezing his eyes shut. His ears were ringing and he felt to be freezing, but the pain in his shoulder felt like fire consuming him; yet again he groaned as if it would have helped with anything to ease the suffering.

Merlin frowned and felt his mouth to be very dry and his parched throat begging for water as he tried to swallow, then feeling as if he had a great amount of dust in his mouth that just didn't taste good. It took several attempts to keep his eyes open and another while for his vision to clear enough. He noticed the flames of the torch and it seemed to be so close, for a moment the warlock wondered why he doesn't feel it burning him, surely being so close to the fire would have him at least feeling warmer, instead of cold. - _And oh, how cold he felt. -_The cave walls danced around in front of him, causing his stomach to somersault. He just felt so dizzy.

Then he noticed a figure crouched over him, unmoving; and he struggled to give sense to it's shapes. First he recognized the chain mail, next the red around his shoulders, thus coming to the conclusion that it has to be a knight. He felt relieved to be found by him and not someone else. Then he recognized the person wearing the Camelot cape, and right after that, his focus came onto something in the man's hand that very much resembled a dagger; was rather close and more importantly, pointed right at him. – As slow as his mind was momentarily, he knew a knife just cannot mean anything good, especially aimed in his direction.

And in that instant Percival got the sudden feeling that he had just run out of time for a decision. - _Or perhaps the decision was made for him instead._

He got lost in Merlin's groans and pained expression. And as considerable size of a man he was, Percival still found himself being somewhat.. afraid.

_The sorcerer was awake. –_ But the knight was too surprised to move; the words froze in his throat and didn't know what to say or do.

However said sorcerer was looking squint-eyed at him; and it took a while for the manservant's eyes to focus and he furrowed his brows in effort to see the knight, before actually recognizing him, and then running his uncertain gaze between the man and the dagger in his hand. He didn't look all that threatening.

"Uh.. h.." It wasn't much but it was all he could squeeze out in one go, and it perfectly expressed how he must have felt. "Ph..erc..ival?" The second attempt sounded closer to what he intended to say, though it got him coughing; but it was pretty much what Percival needed to rouse him from his musings.

"Yes.." He nodded and didn't know what else to say. He still felt abashed about looking at Merlin, and _knowing_ the truth about him and just _what_ he is; yet he wasn't any different; he searched for signs, any kind of differences, but the servant looked the same; he still was _Merlin._

"Wh.. what are y-you.. doing?" Merlin asked confusedly, his voice coming out something between a chocked growl and breathless squeaking.

The tall man looked somewhat comical, looking wide-eyed at the sorcerer like some freak of nature, almost like he'd never seen the likes of him before. - _Now's the time! -_ Something spoke in him, but looking Merlin in the eyes he knew he just couldn't do it.

The knight just stared at him in a sort of awe and Merlin couldn't for the life of him understand why Percival would be hovering over him with a dagger in hand. _Perhaps he got knocked on the head?_

"I need to cut your shirt away." He blurted eventually, after a long moment of going over of just what he originally wanted to do with the knife; and just how wrong that felt; and prayed to the Gods the raven-haired won't think much of it. It took a while till the servant recalled what has happened, but then Merlin seemed to understand, nodding carefully and turned his head slightly, while he clumsily reached up and tugged at his neckerchief to get it loose and out of the way.

_Cut his shirt away._ Percival praised his own quick thinking and swallowed; then gripped the hilt better in his sweaty palm and did just that. Careful to avoid anything else that wasn't his shirt, he cut the fabric of Merlin's garment and gingerly pulled the soaked and dirty layers of material back to reveal a nasty wound. It was glistering bloody and dirty and it had all the shades of dark blue and purple and everything in between; and the knight found himself unable to tell where the actual wound is under all the mess, and he silently cursed himself for stalling. Merlin also tried to peer at his own injury and let out a shaky breath when he felt he couldn't see much beside the myriad of red and dark colors.

"That's.. ugly." Percival sighed.

Merlin scoffed and gave a dry laugh, but cut it short when he felt the movement increase his discomfort. It felt like even breathing hurt. "Well.. least.. Arthur can't say I.. h-haven't got any battle wounds.." He added in one quick breath.

_No battle wounds.._The knight thought, picking up the discarded neckerchief, he shook it and covered the wound with it, drawing a hiss out of the young man, while and suddenly recalled all the times Merlin got out of tight situations unharmed. _Oh, how it made sense now.._

But perhaps.. _perhaps_ this all was planned and he did it all on purpose, only the miscalculations landing the sorcerer in the trouble he was in right now. Perhaps he _deserved it._ - Percival strengthened his resolve and decided he will get the truth out of the servant, no matter what he has to do to get it, and with that he involuntarily pressed a little harder then necessary, causing the magic wielder to let out a choked yelp in pain, while he squeezed his eyes shut. He _will_ have the young man confess. But again, said young man did something that was very much Merlin-like, and not like a plotting crazed sorcerer.

"Arth.. Wh.. where's Arthur?.." he panted. Desperately trying to distract himself from the pain. He figured it's either dislocated or broken; though judging by how he was feeling, it could be both and in flames and pierced while being eaten alive; he couldn't tell. It just hurt something terrible.

_So you are concerned about the king, ey?_ The knight thought, pausing in his movement. _Why care? Concerned about his safety or the success of the plan to assassinate him?_

"He's fine. He got out before the cave came down on us." Percival said, noticing his own voice shaking a bit from the tension he felt, and he observed, unblinking what the man's reaction would be; may it be anger; may it be disappointment; to spot anything, _anything at all,_even the faintest sign that this man wasn't the cheery "special" lad Lancelot always talked so fondly of; that this man wanted to see the king die, the kingdom fall, the people perish - yet it didn't come.

"Good.." Merlin breathed out with what seemed like the deepest relief and attempted a small smile as he closed his eyes. "Good.." he mumbled again.

Percival just stared at him, reading his features, suddenly feeling ashamed for even thinking of suspecting Merlin of anything less then being loyal to Arthur; all the accusations that came to his mind earlier, now seemed ridiculous and he found himself feeling very sorry and genuinely worried for the man, the severity of his condition truly dawning on him.

Percival only snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Merlin had opened his eyes and was staring at him. – _Eyes dark and blue, not gold.._

"D'you.. cou'dyu.. g've me some ..water..?"

"Yes.. Of course.." he fiddled on his belt to get the waterskin, only then realizing that even with Arthur giving his, and his own being half full, they will be short on it; more so that he would need to clean that wound somewhat, before wrapping it.

_He could have denied him; what would be the point in wasting water on him? Saving a sorcerer..?_– But as fast as the thought came as fast he let it go; his movements not even pausing as he brought the mouth of the skin to the manservant's lips. And the man drank avidly.

"Nh..!" Merlin looked up at him in desperation as the knight took the water away after a few gulps, but the explanation came shortly after: "I'm sorry, but we're stuck here.. We need to ration the water."

"St.. ck?" Merlin picked his head up, quickly regretting the careless movement as he let his head fall back on the debris and squeezed his eyes shut. "We're stuck..?" he croaked eventually. _Oh right.. the cave-in. How could that slip his mind?_

Sir Percival wondered for a moment if he should let the man think there is no way out; let the man believe it's their grave they are sitting in, and the knights and the king won't be coming back for them, but yet again decided against holding information from him.

"There is a way out. But we'll be needing help to get out."

Merlin looked at him confused. Surely he doesn't mean climbing out through some hole, the servant prayed. He knew very well he won't be up for it. _Not with someone around to watch him.._ - That got him an idea.

"You should go.." he spoke, but Percival just shook his head. "I'm not leaving you here." And suddenly Merlin was the one feeling silly. _Of course, the man wouldn't leave. That wouldn't be like him._ But it also meant he can't use magic to heal himself while the knight is around, and he felt he could really use a couple of healing spells. His aching shoulder was one thing, but he felt nauseous, cold and alarmingly dizzy even laying on the ground – tell tale signs that translated, thanks to his experience of working with Gaius, that he had lost a great deal of blood already, and who knows how that knock on the head was looking, that was giving him a headache.

"Help is on the way." Percival said and it seemed the servant is fine accepting as much for now.

"I need to bind your shoulder." He spoke again, his voice coming out uncomfortably flat and hoarse, knowing it won't be a fun experience. The wound would need to be cleaned and bandaged, but not having that luxury at the moment, Sir Percival whispered a silent apology as he took off Gwaine's cape and proceeded to cut strips off of it to use as bandages.

By the time he finished, it seemed Merlin had passed out again. _For the better._ - Percival thought, though he worried for that head injury, not quite sure if he should let Merlin sleep.

He moved the torch to his other side to have better light; if he has to do this, he might as well make sure he sees what he's doing. He placed the wood in a crack on Merlin's right side, putting a couple more stones around the base to keep it steady as possible; thus lighting the young man's shoulder and face better, but then as he turned back towards the servant, something else caught his attention. There, just at the edge of the tear on his shirt, Merlin's skin seemed to have some marking on his chest. _Some sorcerer marking perhaps.._ His interest perked.

The knight carefully moved closer, trying not to make a sound, glancing up at the dark-haired, to see if he really was unconscious; feeling like he was trespassing a little with his curiosity. Percival carefully pinched the edge of the fabric between two fingers and lifted the remains of his shirt, looking up again to see if the movement roused Merlin, but he didn't even flinch.

He wasn't sure what to expect; runes, markings, perhaps, but what he saw in the end wasn't anything like those. He frowned as a large burnt scar revealed itself and he tried to recall any incident or attack they suffered that could have the king's servant come out of it all with an injury that would leave such a mark on his skin. - He couldn't think of any.

Perhaps it was something that has happened before Percival came to Camelot. It did look old enough; but then why would the king say he doesn't have battle wounds, and tease him on a daily basis on the training field, about his lack of fighting skills. The knight frowned; Merlin was no knight of Camelot, but he was pretty decent with the blade, - when he had to be, - and he was no coward either. But if that's the case, it could mean only one thing: the king just didn't know. And if he was unaware of the scars his servant bore, no doubt it was because Merlin was hiding them; and that instantly made him come to the conclusion that they must have been of magical origin.

For a moment he wondered how two sorcerers would fight chanting spells at each other. He found fighting with words instead of weapons and strength to be an odd one._But what is strength really..?_ He huffed to himself.

The scar looked nasty and he didn't doubt it had to be a painful one to receive. The knight realized Merlin had his own kind of strength after all; and above all, he was a hell of a lot better at keeping secrets than one would think of him being capable of. No doubt if he had kept his magic secret, he had to keep his sorcery-obtained injuries in the dark as well. _Just how hard must have that been.._especially when the king often used him for this and that, besides the chores, involving him in the training – perhaps unknowing that the man he was making hold the wooden shield for him to practice on with a mace, was hiding injuries under his clothes. _Or maybe he had spells for that as well?_

Percival found it all very overwhelming and as he glared at the burn mark, trying to digest what he has seen, he noticed the edge of another scar; looking like something more recent he received, and after a moment of scrutinizing it, the knight vaguely recalled the ambush at the Valley of the Fallen Kings. Least he could place one scar to an incident, he thought; but what of that huge one on his chest? And who knows how many more there are.. _'no battle wounds ey?'_

He let the cloth fall back a little carelessly then nearly jumped when he noticed Merlin was looking at him with an expressionless face. It made him shiver. What if the sorcerer, now having been discovered, will kill him off with a spell as quick as a breath..

"Are you injured anywhere else?" The question serving as distraction came to him faster this time; and Merlin apparently didn't think to be suspicious of why the knight was prying at his clothes and looking at his chest.

"Don't think so.." He croaked with a twitch of the eyebrows, and fell silent again.

Percival cleared his throat, shaking away the disturbing thoughts of various painful deaths by magic and he took the water skin in hand gripping a piece of red cloth.

"Ready?" He said plainly and only waiting until he saw Merlin nod and he got to it. Making quick work of the cleaning and trying to ignore the muffed moans coming from the servant, even though Merlin tried his best to stand it all; his torn flesh burnt fiercely and right into his bones and skull and he bit the inside of his mouth and squeezed his lips and eyes shut, but eventually the sounds of pain erupted from his throat and let loose in a ragged breath. Percival kept at it, cleaning off the dirt, mumbling "sorry's" in repetition and tried to work as fast as he could.

Bandaging was another matter. He carefully sat Merlin up, giving the physician's apprentice enough time to asses his own injuries. Merlin nodded again and Percival continued. There was something horribly wrong with his arm and shoulder. He couldn't move it, yet in the light of the torch and the mess of blood, swelling and bruises, the knight couldn't tell what it was. Merlin kept his eyes closed after he got a glimpse of it, plainly saying "Broken." between gritted teeth, and it seemed he will pass out again. Percival kept a hand on him at all times to keep him sitting at least until he binds the arm and shoulder enough, using more of the cape to make a sling.

Having the servant sit up left the knight wondering if it was worth it all and wouldn't it be easier to just wait for their rescuers to come back for them. Not that Merlin was saying anything, except for a dropped word of instruction here and there, which Percival appreciated, coming from the man serving as physician in the group; but the man was trembling and swaying even as he sat, and sweat was flowing off him in rivulets.

Lucky the head injury turned out to be a small cut, as Percival found out after some cleansing; and it seemed to have stopped bleeding aw well. He couldn't know what other damage there could, but least on the outside he could help it. He dabbed off most of the blood that caked onto the pale skin then wrapped his head as well and decided, he put Merlin though enough already, so he declared with all the certainty of a fake physician that all is fine, - and the servant didn't argue.

Merlin felt positively sick. He lay on his back, eyes shut and frowning; he squeezed his lips tight to muff his moans of pain, he obviously was in, taking steady breaths through his nose in attempt to calm his roaring nerves.

Percival observed while he desperately tried to think of something to help. "Can't you do anything?" He asked. Surely there was healing magic he could do.

Merlin scoffed, running his glance along the cavern ceiling.

"What could I possibly do?" he panted looking at the tall man. "I can't even move.."

_'Magic'_ Percival nearly blurted out.

"I'm.. sorry.." the dark-haired then said, looking at the distressed knight figuring the man felt helpless enough without him being difficult about it.

Percival shook his head with an apologetic expression and turned to eye up their water reserve instead, wondering if there could be a spring somewhere in the caverns, but not really wanting to go and get himself lost in the tunnels.

He picked his head up, thinking he heard something, but the young man had his good arm over his head, covering his eyes and besides the heavy breathing there wasn't anything about him.

Merlin had to make do with what he had, and be quick about it, before things got worse and he wouldn't know how to get out of the mess or worse: lost control. He covered his eyes to be sure no golden glimpse escaped and used all the non-verbal healing spells he could recall. Yet again swearing that if he gets out of this situation alive, he will study hard and learn all the healing spells he can find in the lot of the whole library and Gaius's tomes. – Can't be helped. Healing arts weren't his main field of interest, as Gaius had once pointed it out. But they sure as hell would have come handy right now.

He also had to be careful, not to make it too obvious, so he focused on dimming his pain at least, and stopping the bleeding; the spells having more or less success. He didn't need to fear a sudden and miraculous healing; he just wasn't that good at it.

He didn't know when darkness claimed him, he also had no notion of the knight still looking at him; drawing his own conclusions.


	4. Chapter 4

**Last Friday post.. quite late. ****With rumors of Colin in hospital I got too distracted and just couldn't get myself to write. Anyone got any news? Last thing I got was several days ago, and that was of him being in hospital and on antibiotics IV. Now even that is unconfirmed so.. anyone out there know anything ?**

**_This chapter..._yea. I'll just quit the editing now, post and run in the other direction.. I wonder if it's getting lame :/ **

**Anyways.. keeping A/N short, hope you like, despite my pickiness about it and sorry for the delay.. Thank you for the reviews favs and follows, your feedback keeps me going, I thank you from the bottom of my heart~ Bless you all!**

**Enjoy! **

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He didn't know when darkness claimed him, but it took him a while for his ear to perceive and make sense of what he was hearing. The knight was calling out to him, and once his eyes got used to seeing passed the dangling and dancing shadows, he recognized Percival's concerned face in front of him.

"Wh.. what? ..What is it?" Merlin mumbled, feeling like a cloud had settled somewhere where his brain should be. He very much wanted to head back into the comfort of dark unconsciousness, but figured he should hear out what the tall man wanted. He decided to go back to sleep afterwards.

"You should try and stay awake." The man said. Sir Percival was pretty sure being oblivious to the pain was more inviting then glaring at the cavern walls and baring it, but he had all intention to keep the servant wakeful with the head injury.

"It's.. f..fine.. I'm fine.. I'm awake." Merlin tried to sound reassuring, even if he was certain he's sounding anything but. He swallowed drily and contemplated asking for some water, but he felt speaking in itself was an effort he'd needed to calculate about before spending too much energy on it. He tried to stay awake though; least for now, as the knight was keeping an eye on him. _But it's okay, he'll fall asleep when Percival isn't looking._

He then noticed, his feet were higher then he remembered, and after some thinking he figured the knight must've prepped them up to keep his legs raised. It made the warlock feel humbled and grateful for it helped his sore body cope with the blood loss. The chill and the dizziness was more then enough. He tried to focus. He remembered nothing of being moved. He was certain he didn't wake for it. He also had to try and not give away how his aching had dimmed to a bearable amount, thanks to the healing spells, wondering if his drowsiness and confusion was part of the effect as well. _Gaius would surely scold him.._

"We should talk." The knight said with a sudden idea, his voice ripping through the cloud of thoughts.

Merlin's eyebrows wandered upwards, making his tired, hazy expression rather comical and disbelieving. Percival had to admit it wasn't the best of ideas he had come up with, and he felt anything but talking, but they had to make due with what was available, so he started babbling to hold the servant's attention. Stories and pranks, whatever came to his mind, he was saying it loud.

Getting the servant to talk was another matter. Merlin was breathless from a single tale about Arthur putting his shirt on inside out, and the manservant deciding to let him wear it like that for the whole day, simply because he thought the blonde deserved it for the extra chores piled on him. Besides, he was the king, nobody dared to make a remark about his garment.

They laughed and Merlin held onto his injured arm not to jolt his shoulder too much.

However, laughter might not have been the very best medicine and spells or not, ache was creeping back into his body. He also needed a gulp of water when he finished talking, so Percival took pity on him and took it upon himself to be the source of constant distraction. So he talked. From what he'll do when they get out of this place, to his childhood mischief's with a maiden's bath; from one of the Camelot stable-boy's bride, to Gwaine's story he heard about a landlord's daughter and some stolen barrels of ale, that somewhere along the line included a stolen horse and a sack of apples. All the while, continuously making sure Merlin was looking at him and paying attention; hearing out his remarks, while they waited for time to pass, and rousing him when his eyes slipped closed.

He felt he hasn't talked this much in all his life.

"Percival.. I'm.. tired.." Merlin sighed at one point, sounding every bit of it.

"But with the head wound.." The man said apologetically. He knew as much that those things were tricky and too sneaky to ignore.

"I know.." Merlin understood. "I know, but.. I can't help it. It's.. it's enough if you wake me every now and again.. every hour or so.. Just.. st le'mme sleep.. a little.."

Despite his better judgment Percival agreed to it, Merlin was the physician's apprentice after all. He fell unconscious in an instant. And so the night stretched on in silence; only a moan or a gasp here and there, and the knight was left with his thoughts once again.

Sometimes he would doze off and he'd wake with a start and wake the sorcerer in a rush; other times he just looked at the unconscious man, his fingers no longer twitching towards the dagger, but still he sat with much uncertainty in his heart and as much turmoil in his head.

_He knew._

He knew _what_ the man was, yet talking to Merlin was the same. The jokes, the tales, the humor; everything was the same; everything felt the same and the more he talked the more comfortable he felt with it and that in itself made him worry as hell. _Had he been enchanted? Was all this a façade?_

He kept thinking the king should decide about Merlin's fate instead; which in the same time felt both like a burden taken off his shoulders, as well as made him feel cowardly of not being able to come to a decision on his own. Arthur knew the man, he trusted the servant and there was the fact that Merlin's been a good friend of Lancelot as well; so Percival just couldn't take a dagger to his throat. It just wouldn't be any good.

Thus he stuck to waking the manservant every now and again, for a short talk; for a gulp of water. He would check to see if fever was reaching him; check for his breathing, his heartbeat; making sure he is alive and stays that way too. All the while letting his thoughts roam and coming to the same conclusion each time: that was, of not coming to a decision.

He kept to the unwilling routine, yet as the night passed each time it took more and more for Percival to rouse Merlin and he was getting really worried, even if he wouldn't have known what to say if someone had asked him why. –_ And to keep Merlin alive for the king to judge him was becoming a lame excuse._

At one time he resolved to actually squeezing Merlin's injured shoulder to wake him.

"Sorry.." He meant it.

The manservant merely nodded as he squeezed his lips tight to prevent another whimper escaping and held his injured limb.

The knight said nothing just looked like a lost pup, obviously fearing every time, that if the servant closed his eyes he just might not wake up the next time and then he would have to give answers to the king. So as a last resolve he decided to pick a different topic, that he felt would surely keep Merlin awake..

"How do you think Morgana feels?" He asked cautiously. "What do you think.. _having magic feels like?_"

Merlin could have sworn there was an odd tone to that question; curiosity obvious in it, yet it was just an odd topic to pick. _Magic_ always was an odd topic to pick, and he felt himself getting cautious-jumpy from it over the years; but this time he brushed it off thinking his condition is making him imagine things, so he just looked at the tall man with furrowed brows, taking it as the knight's attempt to keep him talking and awake. He took a moment to consider the answer, but it wasn't really something he needed long to think about.

"Lonely." He said quietly, after a short pause and that in turn wasn't an answer Percival expected.

The manservant looked up at the knight and he clearly was waiting for something more. "Lonely?" he repeated, unable to hide an incredulous edge of the word.

"I can't imagine being.. hunted to feel like anything else.. but lonely and scared."

"Of course she's hunted! She is out to get us all killed!" Merlin found he can't argue with that, but then Percival added something that made him almost twitch. "_Magic_ corrupted her!" A little flame of annoyance and anger rose in the knight and he suddenly recalled why he wanted to kill the servant to begin with. _It's only natural for him to side with the witch! _

"It.. wasn't m-magic.. it.. Uther.." Merlin was struggling with the words. Suddenly wanting to say a lot, but running out of breath to do so and even he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. _Magic wasn't evil! Why couldn't people see that..?_ "She.. she used to b-be different.. " Merlin said and felt his eyes sting thinking about the sweet girl that gave out food for those in need in times of hardship, the girl that stood up to the tyrant of a king to save her maid.. and what she became of that girl. All that was left now of her was a bitter woman, that saw nothing else but power and revenge, and not thinking about what comes after it.. "She used to be.. a good person.." He still believed that. He still wanted to believe that.

Merlin turned his head away, not wanting to look at the knight; not wanting to show just how much it bothered him of how Morgana turned out to be; not wanting to show the guilt he felt consuming him and crushing him day in and day out and how that guilt somehow felt tenfold heavier in that moment._ If only.._ If only he had made different decisions; if only he had taken different steps.. siblings wouldn't be fighting each other now.

"S-she used to be.. such a.. good p-person.."

He didn't even know why it all was upsetting him so much. He was on the verge of tears and he fought between proving his point and not embarrassing himself, topped with his own confusion of why the notion had such an effect on him all of a sudden. It bothered him, but for long now he didn't get so emotional about the witch's fate.. so why now? _Was he losing it? _Perhaps it was the knock on the head, perhaps the myriad of spells he cast carelessly.. Maybe a bit of both. It had to be..

"Sh.. e used to be.."

"I'm sorry.." Percival mumbled involuntarily. "I.. didn't know her before that." He added accordingly. Truth be told he felt a little taken aback by the servant's outburst, even if the servant didn't actually shout, he looked properly shaken. And then the knight realized something: it was just like Merlin to see the good in everyone. _Just like Lancelot had told about him;_ and the muscular knight felt a little guilty for his rising anger again. What a puzzle this man was. A moment ago he almost had enough reason to pull his dagger on the manservant, but yet again Merlin proved himself to be made of something else.

The warlock was taking deep breaths to calm himself. He had a head injury, and he's been in a shower of falling boulders, Gods know what was wrong with his arm and shoulder, pain was creeping back into his cold limbs, yet he was thinking clear. His outburst told Merlin he was reaching dangerous levels in his condition. He knew he had lost a lot of blood, and his little spells could only manage as much as slowing down the inevitable, before his mind would give in to the numbness from the pain or the spells, or have his mouth go walkies, like it just did. He felt a pang of fear; _did he mess up some spells..? Gaius will be so angry._ He wondered how infection didn't kick in yet. - _Not_ that he was missing the feeling of it.

He tried to scale his options.

He couldn't be sure how Percival would take the news of him having magic; the man wasn't fond of sorcerers, that much was certain; and he couldn't trust the knight wouldn't beat him to a pulp should the warlock reveal himself. He'd be defenseless in his condition. - That thought made him feel alone. _How else could a magic user feel..? _He huffed. If he were to reveal himself it would threaten him as much as just dying slowly from his injuries.

But he had to have faith, Merlin reminded himself, before desperation could take hold. He had to trust that one day things will change, that things will be different once Arthur unites the land of Albion. He just had to wait it out.. and live through the mess until that day actually comes.

Thinking further, Merlin wondered if he could manage casting a sleeping spell on the knight, then properly healing himself; but how would he explain his condition's rapid improvement once the man wakes; or perhaps the sleeping spell might take too much effort to begin with..

He felt a tear tickle down from the corner of his eye and he felt glad he was facing away from Percival. Come what may; he decided to do nothing. And as Percival stayed quiet he slowly let himself be claimed by the darkness.

Soon he felt being roused again, and Merlin took it like an insult to his own existence.

"Please.. No.. please Percival.." He pleaded. "It.. it hurts so much, just let me sleep.." He didn't care that he was whimpering now. Gods, he was pathetic, but he just didn't care anymore. He was freezing and felt exhausted. He felt thirsty, but had since talked himself out of asking for water. _Bloody cave._

The knight put his hand on his good shoulder and he could swear he was seeing sunlight from somewhere, but when he opened his eyes he realized they still were in the cave. And the knight was hovering over him with concern.

"I just.. I just closed my eyes.." He said trying to sound convincing.

"You've been out for an hour or two already." He said plainly and Merlin looked at him with furrowed brows. He could have sworn he just closed his eyes, but glancing around he could see the torch was in a different angle and he had the remains of the cape covering him. He really did fall unconscious.

"Listen." Percival said, drawing his attention on him again and it seemed he's looking for the right words to say something; something that can't be good. "We should move." He said.

Merlin waited for the rest of that to come. "Arthur?" He prompted. Have the knights come to rescue them from this damned place?

"No." the man sighed and Merlin felt tempted to slap him to get the knight talking.

"I know where the way out is. We should move closer to the entrance, so the others can find us better."

The warlock furrowed his brows and then he saw it too.

_Oh no.._

A little earlier Percival has been sitting in silence watching over the shivering form of the manservant when something came to him that just added to the worry.

Merlin was cold. Blood loss or not, he was bundled under a cape and still shivered. Percival was in his usual sleeveless wear and he felt quite warm. In a second thought he glances at the makeshift bandage on his upper arm. It felt sorer then before. The same was true for the cut on his thigh. He sat in one place and was so focused on the servant, he didn't notice it before, but he was feeling weak and warm and once the image of the torch danced around a few times in front of him he didn't need to think hard to know what he was heading for: an infection.

It was a race against time, even more now. But he was determined to get them to the entrance before his strength would give out.

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**sword: Thanks much for the review! Glad you like the story :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**_"When men make plans, the Gods sit and laugh." - _Pretty much what has happened to me and my great plans for the Update-galore before moving. Wires fried in the walls, the electrical switch went out with fireworks and I spent two more afternoons holding flashlight in one hand and screwdriver in other, assisting my dad in fixing it; then needed modem fixed, as the poor thing fried as well with all the electrical issues. *****Deep breath* ****But that's that and I'm back, and I hope you'll forgive me for the delay.. ****Thank you all for the lovely reviews and feedback and your patience..!**

**So on with the fic..**

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The journey felt like the longest one the knight has ever been on.

It seemed to take forever to strut and stumble across the debris and they managed to add a couple more bruises to the old ones, but maneuvering an injured servant and a torch, all the while feeling dizzy and weak himself, he couldn't expect things to go all that smooth. _Really._

Merlin did all he could in his condition, more or less keeping himself uptight and not have the knight carry too much of his weight; despite standing up and moving had felt uncomfortable and exhausting. But the man held onto him; his strong grip feeling like shackles on his upper arm, leaving the servant to wonder if the knight was afraid he might run away; or he just didn't know his own strength; - or was trying to get his other arm broken as well, - but more often than not, that very grip stopped Merlin from bumping into things, as well as warning him to lower his head, so he said nothing. - _He felt lucky to be alive after seeing that wall come down, he certainly won't be complaining about being manhandled a little. -_ It felt little odd however when he was the one that had to plant his feet and stand firm to help the knight find his balance while hanging onto him. At such occasions, he was certain only his magic was holding him on his feet. His vision swam and the dizziness drew nausea and it just made it all the more difficult.

It got impossible to handle a few occasions and they had to stop moving as it made him retch, but his stomach was too empty to give anything up then the few sips of water. Percival said nothing, just supported him in silent understanding, looking just as wobbly and sick on his feet.

They had to sit to gather their strength a couple of times.

"I wonder.. if this is how Gwaine gets home.. after a night in the tavern.." Merlin remarked between pants, sloped down against the wall of the cave, trying to lighten the mood.

"No.. sometimes he gets on his hands and knees.." the knight added and they laughed weakly, as much as their lungs and aches allowed them.

"Maybe we should try it when we get back.." the servant suggested.

Percival grimaced. "I'd be fine with the drinking.. Not the hands and knees part though.."

"Why not? It shouldn't be too hard.. after crawling around this place.. and.. Arthur already thinks of me as a drunkard.." Merlin barked a laugh. "Even when at times I'm nowhere near the tavern.." The warlock instantly noticed the slip when the man raised an eyebrow at him from the other side of the wall where he was crouched down.

"Where are you then?" He prompted after the servant went quiet.

"Where else?" The reply came quick enough, braced with a wary smile. "Picking herbs for Gaius.. The prat just tends to forget." Percival accepted that with a nod, because it made sense; the king was a busy man, he couldn't be bothered to keep track of his manservant's whereabouts, more so while he was working for the physician as well.

Merlin closed his eyes taking a deep breath while he felt around the bandage on his shoulder and simply made a mental note to take Arthur's persisting advice for once and just _shut up_.

It was an odd feeling to talk about going back to Camelot. For Merlin it felt like a notion to cling to in the thickening mist of all his discomfort; for Percival it felt like a lie and treason, and looking at the tired grin the servant forced on his features on the pretense of staying strong, he felt guilt building as well. - _How can this man be a sorcerer? Why him..?_ It was just too unbelievable.

He felt a nagging need to come to a decision already about what to do with the knowledge he had about the man. And possibly not change his mind whenever he picked one idea or the other – but somehow whatever he wanted to choose, it always felt wrong. A part of him kept pushing the pestering thoughts aside; not wanting to deal with it now; not wanting to think about something so complicated, when their current situation was difficult and unpleasant enough on it's own. But then he was accusing himself that he was stalling and leading a sorcerer back towards Camelot, and time was running out; even if said sorcerer happened to be friend of many; manservant to the king; apprentice to the court physician..

Sir Percival couldn't be sure if he was endangering the kingdom because of a magic user, or endangering a good man's life, because of that kingdom's laws.

Then an idea came to him out of the blue, as he watched the man carefully pad around the makeshift bandage on his head: what if Merlin wasn't picking herbs for the physician, nor spending time in the tavern..? And suddenly it clicked in Percival's mind of just_ when_ Merlin could have possibly acquired all those scars and injuries; but yet again, something in him decided not to think about it any longer. He had a headache as it was and he was really starting to hate all this thinking business and guessing games.

"Let's go." he said and clumsily got on his feet, moving to pull the servant up as well, before he could doze off.

_The king will decide; the king shall cast judgment. Just need to stay alive until that happens.. _– that's all he thought about. That's all he wanted to think about. It was time to move.

.

Eventually they reached the roots where the opening of the caverns was. The knight had no idea how, but he considered the achievement to be something of a miracle, with a great deal of good luck added; - _and perhaps some magic?_ – Strangely, he found himself open for the idea, glancing at Merlin involuntarily, but the servant, that has grown quiet since, was busy focusing on what's in front of him.

Percival helped him lay down just across from the way out, not quite wanting to go outside to expose them to the nightly chill and possible unwanted visitors, and Merlin made no protest against it, obviously tired from their little trip. He ripped another stripe off the cloak to bandage a newly acquired cut on the young man's leg just under his right knee. The servant endured it valiantly, only making a hiss as the knight worked.

"Hah.. just when I t-thought I didn't.. 'ave enough.." he stuttered and forced a laugh, but it was a nervous and worrying laughter that turned into coughing, then to shaky breaths as Merlin tried to steady himself and gain control over his body, that now felt more worn then he'd ever felt before; pain returned with renewed forces, gnawing at his every cell, dizziness forcing him to close his eyes, though it made no difference at this point. It felt like the spells he had cast earlier never happened and their effect vanished without a trace. - _He just wanted to pass out already._

"So many battle wounds.. Arthur will be proud." Percival mumbled, feeling he must say something, even if what came out of his mouth felt clumsy.

"Yea.." Merlin whispered not even opening his eyes, and somehow the cheekiness was gone from his words. "Maybe he will.. give me a d-day off.."

"Maybe he will even knight you." The tall man added, for a second thinking he was clearly losing his mind to even suggest the king of Camelot knighting a sorcerer, but at least it drew the servant's attention to him.

"Right." Merlin looked at him with furrowed brows and then they both scoffed at the idea, but Percival still felt the need to say something encouraging for a change; that mask of bravery and resistance was slipping and cracking off the young man and he felt more worried and sorry for him, the more he saw him losing his grip on holding it together.

"You're a brave man Merlin.. Arthur just might not know it.."

The effect was instant and surprising; and the knight nearly missed it. He wasn't sure if he had said something wrong, but Merlin's eyes went wide for a moment and he could have sworn there was moisture there that wasn't just the play of the torch's light, before the dark-haired replied, turning away.

"Many things he doesn't know.." He croaked, then there was that nervous laugher again, and Percival, a little confused, rather focused on what he was doing.

_Oh, how he agreed_ with that. Yet he was unknowing of just how deep his words rang in the servant; just how similar it was to the words' of a lost friend.

They weren't the same, but they were familiar enough. - Merlin thought those were the first words of encouragement and appreciation he had ever received from someone that knew him, and _knew _his secret. There was his mother and Gaius of course, though most of the time they were just constantly reminding him to be cautious about his gifts; there had been Will, a close friend, but mischievous though and through; and then there was Lancelot. - The one man that had found out about him and accepted him for who he was and what he was, without questions and it had meant so much; it felt so important; a friendship without lies; a burden shared. – And then all became lost; _because of him.._

Blame the injuries and his condition, it all came crashing down on him once again, and if it were possible, Merlin would have gotten up and ran for his dear life screaming to get away from the emotions, but he was stuck; and it felt there's little air in the cave for him. Most he could do was close his eyes and turn away, again, _pretending_ to be focusing on his breathing and temper the pain, hoping that the few drops of salty liquid escaping from the corner of his eye will go unnoticed in the dim light of the torch.

Percival would have been willing to admit it out loud that in that moment he was indeed scared; he'd never seen the servant so shaken up and battered. He'd only meant his words to be encouraging, but there must have been something he, _yet again,_ didn't know. He was certain it was his words that stirred up something in the young man. – Or did he not think of himself as brave..? Or worthy..? Perhaps he felt ashamed about his magic? Or scared of the king..? - He wouldn't blame him, that's for sure.

He was brave nonetheless, Percival decided. Magic or not, going into danger like he had; stopping in the middle of a cave-in to save the others when the walls were crashing down on _him_ - no doubt he felt confident in his magic to do so. And he's been in some tight situations even before that, but he managed and survived many things, if that scar on it's own was anything to go by. Not even the Dorocha got to him. - _The Dorocha. Right. _He lived through that. He will live through this as well. - He _had _to keep on believing that. He wouldn't know how to face the king and what to say to him should his manservant perish, while he, Percival was in charge of his survival. – _Incredible how that fear was more in focus now, then the idea to end the magic user._ - He thought with a huff and pulled the knot on the bandage drawing a mewl from the warlock.

"Sorry.." He mumbled looking up and he noticed Merlin once again had his good arm over his head, covering his eyes, and for a fracture of time the knight felt he got blocked out, yet missing something very important that was right in front of him; in the same time feeling like he was intruding something personal just by staring at him, so he brushed it all away and he glanced towards the entrance instead. Figured the young man was trying to regain some control, and not lose it completely in front of the knight. He didn't have a knight's training after all. And he had to be in tremendous pain, Percival concluded, but there was nothing he could do.

_Why doesn't the fool just use his magic already?.._ The knight felt himself getting frustrated over it but he still hadn't decided what to do. For now, it felt tempting to grab the man and shake him to use his skills to save himself.

He stepped outside and noted that the night was still dark above them, though dawn couldn't be that far.. the chill swept in thought the opening. He took a few breaths of fresh air to try and clear the dizziness, without much success and decided, even if his fever is keeping him warm he should head back and rest. It occurred to him how he hasn't slept throughout the night, keeping watch over the servant. It suddenly made him feel very exhausted.

He never had a problem with the cold, however he knew his current condition is messing with his perception of it; Merlin on the other hand was a different matter. He decided best way to keep the servant warm is lay down next to him, and as much as he wouldn't have even considered closing his eyes with a sorcerer nearby – injured or not - the feeling of exhaustion and the need to sleep took priority, efficiently pushing certain morals aside.

Percival glanced at Merlin and noticed the servant had yet again passed out, and he figured, let the man sleep. At least he doesn't feel the pain.

The hard stone felt like the most comfortable bed and the knight stretched out on the ground feeling like he hasn't slept in ages. He dozed off quite fast.

.

Next time he woke the thirst was almost unbearable. But they only had but a few sips of water left, so he merely wet his mouth and glanced over to the servant.

He battled the idea to wake him, but eventually just checked on him. His breathing was shallow and his heartbeat seemed to be a mere faint echo of what it should be. He wondered for a moment why that's so, as it was rapid in the first couple of hours but he decided not to think further of it. He wasn't a physician. Merlin was still breathing and his heart was still beating. That's all that mattered.

It was starting to get light outside.

_Help is on the way.. help will be here soon.._ he focused on that instead.

.

He was trembling. He knew he was, yet his cracked lips felt so warm as he tried to lick them. Percival was trying to figure out where the waterskin was. – _No use moving until he actually knows which way to go, right?_

In all that thinking he must have dosed off, dreaming how he found the waterskin and it was full of fresh water and he drank avidly and just how good that felt, but the moment he opened his eyes he knew it was just a dream and if he wants to get a drink he will just have to move to get it; and battle the tiredness to do so.

He could have gotten out and wouldn't be in this mess if … if he hadn't stopped to observe that cursed sorcerer cast spells around.

Percival rolled his head to the side and glared at the sorcerer; feeling a little anger build in him. It made sense. It had to make sense. Thinking about it now, he should have just gotten out of that hole somehow, instead sitting ducks with an injured man, with no guarantee that he will live, even if the others will find them. He will be hanged anyway, _the sorcerer..._ so what's the point?

He sat up groggily and found the waterskin. The gloomy thoughts continued when he noticed just how light it is, thinking he wasted too much on washing those wounds, and he really shouldn't have given Merlin any water to begin with. Even those few sips he had drunk, he threw up and wasted it all.

The knight cast a loathing glance at the unconscious man, a part of him noting his breathing seemed a little irregular, but he didn't move to check.

If they will die in that damned hole, least he could do so after a good drink, if he has to put up with all the dark thoughts. Unlike Merlin, who will most likely die in his sleep and wasn't even conscious enough to ponder about all the maddening things that were plaguing Percival's mind. _Or maybe he should wake him and tell him everything.. let him suffer a little too. Why should the knight be the only one to feel tortured by such notions?_

A childish bad mood has gotten a hold on him and even if he knew it wasn't rational, and it was his fever's doing, he still just let it flow.

He sat savoring the idea for a moment. Then thinking it would require too much energy, - energy he didn't have, - Percival moved to drink instead; determined to finish off all the water, but then something caught his eye. He was holding Arthur's waterskin; and as he realized that, he recalled the image of the king's worried expression, upon learning that his servant was still trapped in the caves. Not knowing if he lived or not..

Percival lowered his arm and let out a heavy breath.

Arthur really cared about the man. They had a very weird relationship, but there was genuine care and concern about each other's lives, and it was something mutual; something went beyond the traits of a duty-conscious king and unfaltering loyalty of a servant. – And Percival had no right to decide about it.

He turned around to look at the young man, then moved to wake him.

.

He tried to lift himself but he couldn't manage to push his body further than on an elbow and even so his stomach riled and his head swam and he felt like he has gotten out of a tub of water with his clothes on, the drenched garment feeling uncomfortable on his skin, the chainmail feeling too heavy and warm even in the chilly morning air. Even his ears felt like he had something stuffed in them. And his injuries were now downright burning with pain.

He could hardly wait for the knights to be back.. Gaius will fix him up. Gaius always fixes all ailing..

He shook Merlin a couple of times, and called out to him, but the man didn't stir. He looked to be asleep and stubborn about leaving whatever dream he was seeing.

Damn it all. He flopped back down on the ground. Damn it all… just.. damn it.. _what the hell is taking them so long...?_

_._

He had thought he will die in a fight. But not like this.. in a damn cave with a _sorcerer_.. That at the end of the day wasn't really that bad of a person, Percival concluded.

He slipped into darkness again, wondering when and if he will wake again.

.

Next time he heard birds and he felt like he was laying in the tall grass of a warm summer field. _It actually felt warm. _He recalled a summer in his childhood, he had spent with his family, looking for mushrooms and berries in the forest. They came upon a clearing and after a days' walk his small feet were tired, so he just lay in the grass, leaving the others to look and gather what they could find and enjoyed the sunlight and warmth. It was a pleasant memory; but.. something wasn't right. He wasn't a child anymore.. he was a knight of Camelot, and he was in danger; and stuck in a cave and now he was unwell and in need of help; but despite the bits and pieces of troubling reality his mind supplied him with, he felt calm. _Is this how dying feels like..?_ Percival wondered.

He could almost hear the wind in the tall glass, but then he caught a word here and there and the recollection of that event slipped more and more into the background as he paid more attention to the voice in the wind; until he actually recognized the voice and he felt he had to see it for himself.

His eyelids felt so heavy, he only managed to open them just a crack, but would he have had the strength they would have gone wide open from what he saw; of who it belonged to.

It was Merlin's voice.

The servant was sitting next to him, arm still in the sling, legs bent uncomfortably so he can turn towards the knight, and his other hand.. _oh, his other hand _was on the knights chest. Percival would have jumped and yelled and ran, but he just had no strength left.. and yet he felt so _calm._

_Is he going to die? By the hand of a sorcerer?_

The young man kept murmuring something and his closed eyes and furrowed brows showed him to be in deep concentration, unaware that the tall man is awake. Then warmness pulsed in his chest and the warlock breathed out as if he was holding his breath and steadied himself with his left to not to fall onto the knight, and swallowed hard; he was breathing ragged, covered in sweat and Percival once again felt confused, but then as quick as he woke, darkness claimed him again.

_It was a spell.. it had to be a spell.._

_._

He woke to his own name being shouted. And he sat up listening intently.

"Percival!" Gwaine's unmistakable voice called out again and the man started to laugh and he get to his feet. Then it hit him. He wasn't feeling weak, not even lightheaded.. a hazy memory crept forward in his mind and he sharply turned to the servant.

Merlin was looking out of it and harmless. His position looked a little uncomfortable, halfway on his side, laying on his injured shoulder, as if he had fallen on it and the cloak was tossed aside.

"Are you sure it was this one?"

"Yes, I remember the tree clearly."

Percival didn't have time to ponder. He had to let the others know they are here before they would leave, so he stumbled out of the opening into the light, shielding his eyes with a palm. The sun was bright and relief has never been greater.

"Percival!" Arthur exclaimed.

"You look horrible." Gwaine added, but the tall man didn't mind, he was just to happy to see each and every one of them.

"You try spending the night in a cave.." he replied to the drunkard of a night with his smile practically reaching his ears, then he saw Arthur and he knew what the king had on his mind, so he nodded before anything was said and with a smile on his face he turned back towards the entrance as the others started to dismount and get their ropes loose from the saddles.

"Merlin!.. Merlin, they are here! They have come!" He said with relief and knelt beside him, rolling the servant on his back, but when he moved to wake him he pulled his hand back in shock and slowly horror filled him to his every cell.

Merlin's hand was cold.

**.*.**

* * *

**There ye have it...longer chapter as well, and yes, I know, cliffie :] _*wink*_ But you wouldn't have it any other way, admit it.. _*ducks from flying fruits*_**

**Anyways.. got a few recommendations as well~**

**_"Worse Things"_** from **Kita Hart** is a very nice read if you are one of those who feel the "Lamia" episode had left much to explore. (I know I am!) _**"The Legend of Matthew Hyde"**_ by **Ash9** is a simply brilliant reincarnation/modern fic. And You_ really really_ want to head over to **LFB72**'s page for **_"The Final Truth"_** which she just started posting and is a fantastic piece of work!

And for fellow slash!fic lovers _**"In a world called catastroph"**_ by **eleviathans_moon** is a yummy angsty/modern slash!fic you just cannot leave out! (search on livejournal)

And so... **Update-galore continues.. next up is ch.4 for The Stray Dragonlord.. ;)**


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